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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330506">finding dogs and future husbands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/widomauk/pseuds/widomauk'>widomauk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Makkachin gets lost and Yuuri finds her and returns her to Viktor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Porn with Feelings, Strangers to Lovers, Top Katsuki Yuuri, different jobs, i guess, in all universes viktor finds yuuri gorgeous, in all universes yuuri also finds viktor gorgeous, they aren't skaters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:09:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/widomauk/pseuds/widomauk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>yuuri is at the park and makkachin comes up to him. thinking her owner will be back to get her, yuuri waits. when no one comes to collect their pup, yuuri finds viktor's number on her collar and calls. the rest is history.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>304</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>finding dogs and future husbands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i'd like to thank ladychipmunk on the yoi 18+ discord for giving me a fun prompt! it was a lot of fun to write. </p><p>listen, if i was viktor i would also be hugging my dog until i cried. that's my BABY. i wrote this sort of fast, so i'm sorry if it's kinda shitty, but i hope you enjoy some fluff and then some smut because these boys can't keep their hands off each other.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yuuri and Phichit go to the park every week for some time to relax. This means Phichit takes pictures of everything for his social media, and Yuuri dog-watches. It’s a good routine, and by the time they’re done, they’re feeling refreshed and ready for the rest of the week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes dogs run up to Yuuri when they’re off leash, and he’ll lavish them in attention until their owner eventually runs over. Today isn’t much different. He gives a golden retriever ten whole minutes of ear scritches while the pup’s foot thumps the ground, a corgi a belly rub, and a really cute chocolate lab puppy a hug in his lap until the owner finds them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He and Phichit are ready to rap up when a chocolate colored standard poodle trots up, tags jingling and tail waving in the air. She’s cut like a teddy bear, all soft fluffy curls and wise brown eyes, wearing a royal blue collar. Yuuri oohs and aahs over her as she places both front feet on his thighs, balancing herself to look directly in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi there,” Yuuri says, threading his fingers through her soft fur. “Are you lost, pup?” The poodle offers a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>woof </span>
  </em>
  <span>and licks his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the kiss,” he replies. “What’s your name?” He searches through her chest curls until he finds a few tags, one with her doggie license and the other with her owner’s contact information. Yuuri assumes the owner will be by soon, and so he ignores it in favor of flipping it to see if it has her name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Makkachin Viktorovna Nikiforova</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>February 2015</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Makkachin,” Yuuri says. “That’s a nice name.” Makkachin licks his nose as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Yuuri giggles. Phichit is taking pictures of the reddening leaves in the park, already planning out his fall theme for his Instagram. They have a few minutes, so Yuuri coaxes Makkachin off his thighs and onto her back, where she flops over happily for the offering of belly rubs. Her tail thumps on the ground as Yuuri baby-talks her and scrubs at her soft stomach happily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been maybe fifteen minutes now, and Yuuri is getting a bit worried. Owners typically come over by now, after spending several frantic minutes searching for their dog. Yuuri likes to stay in one place to make it easier for them, since moving around might mean they miss each other. He sighs and searches through Makkachin’s fur again to find the contact tag. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If found, call+7 xxx-xxxx</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Viktor Nikiforov</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Detroit, Michigan</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri inputs the number in his phone and dials, listening to the ringing as he absently pets Makkachin. It rings only twice before someone picks up, voice frantic. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the man gasps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, um, is this Viktor Nikiforov?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” the man replies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I found your dog, Makkachin, at the park.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a hiccup and a gasp of relief. “Oh, thank god. What park? I’ll be there immediately.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, Forest Park. I’ll wait with her, or we could meet you…?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I live right near there. Thank you </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri’s heart hurts for this man, Viktor, who so clearly loves his dog and has been in a panic looking for her. “Of course, Viktor. I’ll see you soon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you soon, thank you so much.” The phone hangs up and Yuuri looks down at Makkachin, still on her back with all four feet in the air, looking for all the world like she’s just on a stroll in the park, and hasn’t been making her owner sick with worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, everything okay?” Phichit asks, walking over to Yuuri and Makkachin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri huffs. “Yeah, Makkachin here is lost and I’m waiting on her owner. You can head back to the apartment if you want.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Phichit asks, phone pressed to his chest. “I don’t wanna leave you alone with some strange guy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Yuuri assures him. “We’re in public, and I’m just returning his dog.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phichit bites his lip. “Alright, but call me if you need anything, okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go work on your essay,” Yuuri says. “I’ll be fine.” Phichit nods and gives Makkachin a belly rub for good measure before he waves to Yuuri, heading back towards campus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phichit has only been gone for five minutes when Yuuri sees someone sprinting across the grass towards them. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Makkachin!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the person shouts, and Makkachin springs to her feet, tail going a mile-a-minute and dancing in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The person skids to a halt and Yuuri feels his mouth go dry. Makkachin’s owner is </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s all long limbs and silver hair, strong jaw and large nose, and the most amazing blue eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri’s brain shrieks. The Most Gorgeous Man Alive is currently on both knees, arms thrown around his dog and crying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why is he beautiful even when he’s crying? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri wants to know, considering he himself looks like his face is going to fall off whenever he cries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor Nikiforov lifts his head and stares at Yuuri, lip trembling. "What's your name?" </span></p><p> </p><p>

"Yuuri," Yuuri replies. 
</p><p> </p><p>
“Thank you so much, Yuuri,” Viktor croaks. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t find her.” 
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri swallows. “Of course. She’s a great dog. I would’ve been worried sick if it was me.” Viktor nods and buries his face in Makkachin’s fur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“She’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says. “My best friend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Viktor has calmed down and Makkachin has flopped over to nap on his legs, they start talking. Viktor is staring at Yuuri, and hasn’t stopped staring since Makkachin began snoring ten minutes ago. Viktor is apparently a publisher, and on the side a bodice ripper author. He moved to Detroit from St. Petersburg two years ago for a job, and he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>single</span>
  </em>
  <span>, which he says with great emphasis. Yuuri is not so oblivious as to not realize Viktor is definitely flirting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Viktor is gorgeous, and Yuuri is Yuuri, so. There’s that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri tells Viktor about his Masters in Linguistics and his family and dog in Japan, and Viktor hangs onto every word like Yuuri is the most fascinating person alive. Yuuri is just the guy who found Viktor’s dog, and now Viktor is trying to be nice. This is what Yuuri tells himself when Viktor invites him to dinner after they drop Makkachin off at Viktor’s apartment. This is what he tells himself when he agrees, and they’re sitting across from each other in the hole-in-the-wall Greek restaurant down the block from Viktor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is what Yuuri tells himself until he’s pressing Viktor up against his door. By then, these thoughts have all but left his brain as he slips his fingers up under Viktor’s soft sweater, skin burning hot under Yuuri’s cold fingers. Viktor gasps a soft moan and Yuuri takes advantage of his open mouth to slip his tongue inside. Viktor’s hands come up to tangle in Yuuri’s hair, pulling gently until Yuuri backs off so Viktor can unlock the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” Yuuri whispers once the door is open and Viktor is over the threshold, still gripping Yuuri’s hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor looks at him, cast in the soft light of a lamp in the living room, and smiles. “I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you, Yuuri.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri steps inside and the door shuts decisively behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They barely make it to Viktor’s bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. Viktor smacks into the wall in his haste to get his dog-print socks off, and Yuuri nearly trips over himself getting out of his pants. Makkachin watches them judgmentally from her plush dog bed. Viktor shuts the bedroom door behind them, locking it for good measure because apparently Makkachin is good with her paws, and crawls onto the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri watches as he gets comfortable, spreading himself out like a feast. He’s wearing a black thong that does nothing to hide how hard he is, face flushed with arousal. Yuuri climbs up onto the soft bed, mattress dipping under his weight, and hovers over Viktor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s truly beautiful, sparse blonde chest hair and a light stubble, eyes dark with want and lips swollen and red. Every line of his body makes Yuuri thrum with need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs. He lifts a hand to caress Yuuri’s cheek, achingly gentle even though they’ve only known each other for maybe six hours. “Yuuri, I want you to touch me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You only have to ask,” Yuuri brings himself to reply. He dips his head and kisses Viktor gently, their mouths move together in the heady space between them. Viktor presses a hand to the dip of Yuuri’s back, pulling him down until Yuuri is lying fully on top of him. It heats up again once Viktor slides his fingers down into the waistband of Yuuri’s pants, grabbing hold of his ass. Yuuri gasps and grinds forward, their clothed cocks brushing together. It zings up Yuuri’s spine, makes him shudder with want and dig his fingers into Viktor’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor pulls away for air and tilts his head back, an obvious offering that Yuuri will gladly partake in. He runs his tongue over the hot skin, tastes the line of Viktor’s throat while the man under him whines for more. “Yuuri,” Viktor pants. “I want you to fuck me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri hums and works his way down Viktor’s body, mouthing over each nipple until they’re hard and red, and leaves a trail towards the </span>
  <em>
    <span>V </span>
  </em>
  <span>of Viktor’s hips, til Yuuri works the scrap of fabric clothing Viktor’s cock down his thighs and tossed off the bed somewhere. Yuuri allows himself a moment to look; if this is the only time he can have this, he wants to remember it. Viktor cock is longer than his, and thick, but not as thick as Yuuri. He’s cut, cockhead red and leaking, straining up and to the left. Yuuri runs his tongue along the underside, over the main vein and down to the seam of Viktor’s balls, where he takes one into his mouth to suck on. Viktor whines above him, arches his back and clenches a fist in the wine-colored covers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yuuri,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Viktor groans, staring down at Yuuri kneeling between his legs. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, Viktor is </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have lube and a condom?” Yuuri asks, lifting his head, allowing his breath to ghost along Viktor’s cock. It twitches under his face. Viktor nods and makes to scramble to get it, but Yuuri stops him. “Tell me where it is. Stay there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor swallows and nods, points to the right bedside drawer. Yuuri moves slowly, taking his time in finding the barely-used bottle and a packet of condoms. Viktor hasn’t moved except to tilt his head to continue staring at Yuuri. It makes something possessive flare up, something pleased, that Yuuri just met this man today and Viktor already can’t take his eyes off him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants it to last, so he will draw this out as long as he can. Once he’s back kneeling between Viktor’s legs, he coats his hand in a generous amount of lube and warms it in his palm. Yuuri spreads it over Viktor’s cock, making a loose fist to pump him while he uses the rest to open Viktor up. Viktor’s thighs are lovely, and Yuuri gladly drops down in between them to circle a single finger around the rim of Viktor’s hole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri presses in, and the tight heat makes his own cock twitch where it’s pressed against the bed. Viktor’s head falls back on the pillow, hair sticking to his forehead. He spreads his legs wider, a clear invitation for Yuuri to keep going, and he does. He pumps his finger in and out, watches the way Viktor’s hole sucks him in, before he adds another. The stretch probably feels wonderful, judging by the way Viktor’s chest is heaving and he’s moaning loudly, begging Yuuri for more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Viktor gasps, “You’re so</span>
  <em>
    <span> hot.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri hums happily and bites a mark onto the inside of Viktor’s thigh. It blooms red and Viktor’s cock jerks. By the time he’s got three fingers in, Viktor is loose enough that Yuuri’s cock won’t hurt and he’s writhing from the brush of Yuuri’s fingers right next to his prostate. “Fuck me,” Viktor is begging, “Yuuri, please </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck me.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his boxer-briefs that he has yet to take off. He finally does, sliding them down his thighs and relishing in the way Viktor’s eyes track the movement, and darken at the sight of his cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time,” Viktor rasps. “I’m going to suck you off so well you won’t be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Next time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri rejoices. Viktor wants a next time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri pumps his cock, dragging his gaze over Viktor, spread out and wanting. He finds the condom packet, opens it, and rolls it over his cock. He drizzles the lube in his hand, slicks himself up, and crawls forward on his knees until Viktor’s thighs are bracketing his hips once again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful,” he says. Viktor preens, eyes shining, as a flush spreads over his long nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So are you,” Viktor replies, achingly sincere. “I want you inside me, Yuuri. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri lines himself up and pushes in, meeting little resistance and slowly sinking into the tight heat of Viktor’s body. Viktor arches underneath him, spine bending and fingers scrabbling at Yuuri’s shoulders. There are going to be marks there tomorrow, and Yuuri can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait </span>
  </em>
  <span>to twist himself around trying to see them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri is finally completely settled inside, his thighs shaking from how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>it feels, when Viktor loops an arm around his neck and drags him into a burning kiss. Their teeth clack together at first and Viktor giggles into the kiss, his smile stretching wide and leaving a warm feeling trickling through Yuuri. He smiles against Viktor’s mouth, and as he does, he pulls out halfway and thrusts back in, leaving Viktor to moan openly against Yuuri’s lips, gasping. Viktor hooks a leg around Yuuri’s waist to push him in, and meets him thrust for thrust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s all instinct from there. Yuuri stops thinking completely when Viktor clenches down around him, when Viktor fucks himself downward onto Yuuri’s cock. As they’re both drawing close, Yuuri flips them over so Viktor is riding him, and the slap of their skin as Viktor drives himself down is delicious. Yuuri’s toes are curling and Viktor has a hand down on Yuuri’s chest, when Yuuri sits up to bring their chests flush together, staring up into Viktor’s eyes as he fucks up into the waiting heat of Viktor’s body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The angle is so good it hurts, and Yuuri wraps his hand around Viktor’s cock as his own orgasm licks its way through his body. It’s going to be mind blowing, and he wants it to be as good for Viktor as it is for him. Viktor is screaming by this point, sobbing moans as Yuuri’s cock hits his prostate over and over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Viktor,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri groans. “I’m-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” Viktor hiccups, grabbing Yuuri’s face and bringing him into a bruising kiss as he comes all over Yuuri’s fist, long ropes of white spilling all over Yuuri’s knuckles. Yuuri squeezes him tight with his other arm as his hips stutter and he comes </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>cock throbbing inside Viktor as he does. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re both panting, Viktor practically draped over Yuuri, arms hanging limp around his neck, until Yuuri pulls out and lowers them down onto the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Towels?” Yuuri asks softly, brushing silver hair out of Viktor’s blue eyes. Viktor waves a hand in the direction of a closed door in the room, which Yuuri assumes leads to the master bath. He slowly extricates himself from Viktor’s hold, and stumbles into the waiting bathroom. It’s clean, a huge tub and shower, with double sinks. Only one is covered in hair and skin products, and there’s a linen closet across from the sinks. Yuuri grabs a washcloth and wets it with warm water, before making his way back into the bedroom. Viktor is flopped on his back, arm over his forehead and smiling sleepily at Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri, who just had sex with the Most Beautiful Man in the World, who is currently looking at him like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yuuri </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the Most Beautiful Man in the World. It’s a lot, and Yuuri forces himself to walk across the room and clean Viktor up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor spreads his legs easily and allows Yuuri to wipe between them and over his chest where he came on himself. “Thank you,” Viktor murmurs. Yuuri smiles at him, brushes a hand over the flat plane of Viktor’s stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he replies. Then, “Did you...mean it? That...you want there to be a next time?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri,” Viktor laughs softly. “You saved my dog, and therefore saved me. I had so much fun tonight, and that was the best sex I’ve ever had. I think I’m half in love with you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri feels himself blushing, his ears probably turning a horrific red. “Really?” he asks, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Viktor reaches for him, and Yuuri allows himself to be pulled over to where Viktor is laying. He tucks himself close, head resting on Viktor’s broad chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor nods and kisses Yuuri’s forehead, so gently. “Stay?” Viktor asks, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. Really, how could Yuuri say no? They fall asleep tangled together, Viktor’s chest rising and falling with each breath. Yuuri drifts off listening to his heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wakes up at seven to an empty bed, but warm sheets, meaning Viktor has just gotten up. Yuuri sits up and looks around, the room different from how it looked last night in the warm light of one of Viktor’s apparently </span>
  <em>
    <span>many </span>
  </em>
  <span>lamps. It’s almost unlived in, the only real indication someone lives here being the coat thrown over the back of a plush chair beside the dresser, where a few picture frames sit on top. The sheets are soft, and the mattress is the most comfortable thing he’s slept on, but it doesn’t really look like Viktor spends much of his time here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the door flies open and a ball of brown fur bowls him back into the pillows. “Ah! Makkachin!” comes a raspy voice from the doorway. Yuuri leans around Makkachin’s wet greeting to see Viktor standing in the entrance, wearing soft sweatpants and nothing else. Yuuri can see the marks he left all over Viktor’s neck and shoulders and flushes, smiling to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makkachin </span>
  <em>
    <span>woofs </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Yuuri’s face and licks him once again. Yuuri falls back laughing, rubbing his hands up Makkachin’s sides. “I guess I didn’t close it all the way,” Viktor says apologetically. His hair is still sleep mussed and Yuuri finds himself helplessly attracted to this man who he only just met less than twenty-four hours ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Yuuri says. It really is. He had sex with an amazing man, slept over, and is now being cuddled by an overgrown puppy. Said man is looking at him like he can’t believe Yuuri is still in his bed, and like it’s the best thing to happen to him. It certainly is the best thing to happen to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yuuri. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was going to make breakfast,” Viktor says. “But honestly, I would rather cuddle with you and Makkachin until we’re starving.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri laughs. The sun is still rising through the sheer curtains and Detroit is waking up. The downy pillows and warm blankets are calling to him, and Makkachin has already decided his lap is her new bed. Viktor crawls back in beside him, lifting the blankets and tucking himself close to Yuuri’s side. “I’m fine with that,” Yuuri says. Viktor sighs happily, and with his silver hair tickling Yuuri’s nose, he finds he really means it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! i hope you enjoyed! these two are adorable and my absolute faves to write. i'm trying to work on an HP au but it just doesn't wanna come to me. oh well, maybe some day. also, your comments and kudos and bookmarks seriously make my day. i love ya'll so much! if you want to catch me on social media my twitter is @/kaaaaaden. once again thank you so much for reading! see you next level/next fic &lt;3333</p></blockquote></div></div>
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